Just Them Ch. 03

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Siblings keep sight of the good during the bad.
3.7k words
4.57
91.5k
19

Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/29/2003
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"Hello.

"Hello? Is anyone...Cal? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Calvin," Anne said softly. She sat on the floor by the phone and leaned her head against the wall.

"I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay."

"Cal, please come home."

"Don't cry, sweetie. Please, don't cry."

"Just come home. I've got everything all packed. Everything is set. Just come home. Please. Don't leave me."

"I don't want you to go through this again. They always find out and this always happens."

"If I can handle Daddy throwing us out, I can take that smelly little Mr. Dinkle."

"Maybe Dad was right."

"You don't mean it."

"No."

"Will you come home?"

"Don't cry anymore, Annie. I can't take that."

"You'll come home?"

"Yeah. I guess I just needed to think. I'm at some bar. I'll be home in about half an hour. No more crying?"

"I love you, baby."

"I love you too. I'll be home soon."

* * * *

Calvin hung up the battered phone and slid out of the narrow booth. It was the crying, he thought. From the time they were children, he would do anything not to hear her cry. He knew she was right, but it was the crying that made him forgo the long discussion he had planned to muddle through before really agreeing to come home. But she started crying and that was that. Little sister, 1 - Big brother, 0. This game he didn't mind losing.

He was pushing through the bar, feeling strange about being in one in the middle of the day. The day before, they had been told by the apartment manager that they had to leave. He had done some digging with their records and discovered that they were not just husband and wife, as he had been told, but that they were siblings. Place after place, it had always caught up to them. Each time, they were told that either they could all agree to break the lease, or somehow a reason would come up to kick them out. No one wanted them in their building.

Cal understood, but he saw how hard it was on Anne. She loved where they lived. It was just a ten minute walk from the little downtown area. She liked the neighbors for the first time in three years. She was starting to make it their home. But that was usually the way. In their last place, it was a quiet balcony that she loved. In the place before that it was the little pond behind the building. There was something from every place they had lived. He'd forgotten how many times they'd moved in the last few years.

"Hey, sweetie, got time to talk to me now?" He turned to see a woman of about 40. She would have been pretty if she wasn't so weary. She wore a tight yellow blouse with a very obvious black bra. The way she held her drink, it was clear that it was second nature to her. Glass in one hand, slow burning cigarette in her other, she was the picture of happiness. Her eyes had too much make-up, most likely to cover the dark circles that surrounded them.

He never understood how people who had the ability to be decent to themselves chose the life that made them the most miserable. As the thought struck him, he was reminded of his own situation and laughed.

"Hey, sweetie, you don't gotta laugh. I may not be one of them tight-as-a-drum coeds, but I got a few miles left in me."

"I'm sorry. It's not that. It's been a long day. I have to go, so..." He tried to step around her, but she slid in front of him. She moved her glass to her hand with the cigarette and put her free hand on his chest.

"When you came in here, honey, I tried to talk to you."

"Yeah. I gotta get going," he said trying to move. She slid in front of him again. She was like a boozey snake. She ran a hand through her short black hair.

"You told me you had to make a phone call. You made it, so how's about we talk." She moved closer until he could smell her perfume as though it was being injected straight into his brain. "I could be real conversational. Unless you got something else you'd rather do?" She smiled at him and batted her eyelashes before breaking into a throaty laugh that made him want to call a cop.

"Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, but I have to go home. My girl's waiting for me." He smiled at her, as if that explained everything and waited for her to let him go without a scene. The other midday patrons were glancing over at him as he tried to get out of there. The place wasn't that much different than it would have been at night, just sadder with all that dusty sunlight poking holes in everyone's hidey-hole. He saw old men who probably saw presidents come and go from their bar stools. He just wanted to go home and hold Anne. He needed to feel her against him. He'd only been away one night, but it was one too many.

"I really have to go," he said, pushing her aside as gently as he was able.

"It don't gotta be a big deal, honey," she said, pulling him by the elbow. She slithered closer until he could feel the eerie heat of her breath. "We can have some fun and you can run off home, and she'll never know."

"Look, I've tried to be nice, but you don't seem to get it," he said. His voice was darker than before. He suddenly loomed over the woman and backed her up a step. Her hand let go of his arm and her eyes went flat as she considered what he was going to do.

"I don't want to 'spend time' with you. I'm going home to a woman who doesn't make me want to puke. I'm leaving and I want you to forget about it." The frustration of the last couple days was spilling out as he back her down. He felt the muscles in his neck and back tighten up as his anger grew.

"C'mon, sweetie. You don't have to be upset. Let me make you feel better," she said, trying one last time.

"Look, fuck off, alright." He said it louder than he meant to. Everyone looked around. A few men snickered into their glasses. He saw her eyes dart back and forth as she went red with embarrassment.

"No, you fuck off, junior. Go home to your little whore and just think about what you're missing."

"My what," he said softly. His throat was tight. He felt the fluttering in his chest as he got angry. "Say it. Say it again."

"Your whore," she said poking a finger into his chest. Everyone was watching. The TV played in the corner, filling the room with a high pitched static, occasionally interrupted by a laugh track.

He looked at her face as she downed the last of her drink and set it on the table next to her. She looked around in triumph and turned back just in time to see his fist coming toward her nose. She dropped like a sack of potatoes. Some of the men came running from their tables. They looked angry and some of them shouted her name. Friends of hers, he thought. It didn't matter, he had enough mad to work off for everyone.

* * * *

"Where have you been," she said as the door opened. "I was starting to get worried that -"

He shut the door behind him, holding his right hand up close to his chest. He had a piece of cloth wrapped around his knuckles. Blood had begun to seep through. His face had blood on it, and there was a small gash under his left eye. His shirt was torn at the collar and he winced as he sat on the couch.

"Oh, my God. What happened?" She rushed over and held his injured hand.

"Nothing. I just had a disagreement with someone." He pulled the bottom of his shirt up a bit, and sucked air through his teeth at the large bruises on his stomach. He touched them gingerly, yanking his fingers away almost immediately. "Several someones actually. This is turning out to be the worst Saturday I've ever had."

"You were in a fight?" She sounded frantic. "What happened? Were you mugged?"

"No."

"Stay here. I've got to find something to clean you up." She rushed through the room, stepping over boxes and bags. He looked around and tried not to get angry all over again. The walls were bare. Not that there were normally many pictures of theirs anyway. They didn't have any family and they hadn't had any real friends since college. He sighed and tried not to scream as his stomach protested the action.

"Here," she said, coming back into the room. She had a washcloth and a bowl of warm water. "Let's at least get the blood off." She dabbed gently at the gash under his eye. He tried not to jump too hard as the cloth touched his raw cheek.

"Now, suppose you tell me what happened," she said. He told her. He wasn't going to, but then it was out. He told her about the woman and then her friends. By the time he was done, she'd finished with his face and had a large bandage on his cheekbone.

"Oh, Cal, I'm so sorry. Did you win?" He smiled. What a magnificent girl, he thought. No yelling, no screaming about fighting. She just wanted to know if he won. He leaned over and kissed her quick.

"If I wasn't already in love with you..." He sat forward and let her help him with his shirt. "Yeah, I won. I guess," he said, looking at his bloodied hand. She pulled his tattered shirt up over his good arm and helped him slide it carefully down the other and over his injured fist.

"Alright, let's take care of this." She tensed when she saw how mangled his knuckles were. He felt her fingers tighten on his forearm and then release.

"We don't seem to have an easy time of it, do we?" she asked as she soaked his hand in the bowl of water.

"Nope."

"Think maybe you were right? Maybe we should just call it quits?" she asked in a voice he remembered his mother using when he was a child. She let go of him and set her hands on her lap.

"No." He pulled her to him with his good hand. "No, I wouldn't say that."

"All right, then. Can we say that we won't even consider that again? No matter what?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think we can. I'm sorry, Annie. It's never been that I don't want to be with you. Fuck everybody else, I know who I love. It's always only been about making you happy."

"And you didn't want to see me unhappy again. And that's the only reason, mister, that I let things like you saying we should go our own ways slip by. Otherwise, buster, you'd be in worse pain than this." She pulled his face down and kissed him long and hard.

"I don't care what they say," she said, waving her hand to indicate the world outside. "I only care about you. Just because I don't wear a shirt advertising that you're my brother, doesn't mean I want to run at the first sign of trouble."

"Got it." He leaned back and let out a slow breath.

"Do you think we need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nah. Just hurts. One of those bastards broke a pool cue across my stomach."

"You get him back?"

"He's the reason my hand hurts so bad."

"Good enough."

"Greatest woman in the world," he said loudly. They both laughed as she finished tending to his hand.

* * * *

"You sure you're ready for this?" she asked. She sat on the bed as she undid her bra. He pulled his shirt off and walked to where she sat.

"Yeah. It's not so bad." His hand patted at the nasty looking bruise on his hard stomach. "Just sore." He held up his injured hand. "You'll have to help me out with my pants, though." She grinned as she scooted forward. She was such a vision of loveliness, he couldn't believe his fortune. If all he had to pay was a busted hand and a few cuts and bruises, he'd pay it whenever he had to.

"You letting your hair grow long again?" he asked as he stroked his good hand through her tangled brown hair. It was nearly to her chin.

"Uh-huh." She fiddled with the button on his jeans and brushed her hand against his hard-on as she slid the zipper down. "You like it long, don't you?"

"Sure. I liked it short, but if you want a change..."

"Just something different. Think of it, new place, new hair, I'll be positively cosmopolitan." He cupped her face as she smiled up at him. Her eyes pulled him in and wouldn't let go. He was hers until the day the earth came apart. That's what it would take to keep him from her.

"You're so beautiful," he said, still locked on her eyes. She blushed and helped him pull his pants down. Something about watching a beautiful, naked young woman pull off his pants made Calvin crazy.

"Do you think Mr. Dinkle is home?"

"Hope so," she said, stomping her bare foot on the floor. She jumped up and down a couple times forcing nature to make glorious things occur all over her body. She ran and jumped on the mattress next to him, causing a loud squeak of protest from the box spring.

"Let's be REALLY loud." She giggled and scooted up to the head of the bed. Calvin dropped over her, careful to keep his bad hand free. He dropped his elbow, keeping him from crushing her. She laughed and then kissed him as hard as she could.

"Make me scream, monkey-boy."

"Hoo Hah."

He was inside her. Both of them let out grunts of pleasure. Calvin was still keyed-up from his fight that afternoon and found that he had plenty of energy to do as she wished.

The head board slammed against the wall, and the box spring released a veritable symphony of sounds as they fucked like animals. He worried for a moment about being too rough on her, but then he felt her hands come up and lock on his hard neck. Her eyes were wide and burrowed right into him. She told him what to do just by looking at him.

He ignored the soreness in his stomach and his back. He moved in and out of her like it was keeping both of them alive. He couldn't stop. She moaned and told him to fuck her harder. She screamed that she loved him. The bed was being driven into the wall and was almost bouncing on the floor.

They had always been quiet in their lovemaking. After years of keeping it a secret at home, they grew accustomed to stifling the noises that were always at the back of their throat. Not this time. Not with the man responsible for kicking them out trying to sleep just ten feet below them.

It wasn't romantic, it was fucking. It was his cock spreading her cunt, and it was animal pleasure burning in both of their bodies. She used her feet to push him away, and then she was up on her hands and knees, offering herself to him.

He didn't caress her skin as he usually did. He didn't kiss her first. He lined up, held himself steady and slammed his dick into her cunt. The sensation of her ass bouncing against his stomach made him go harder. He laid his body over hers and reached under with his good hand and roughly rubbed her clit. Her arms started to tremble and then her shoulders were flat to the mattress. He pounded as hard as he could until they both screamed. He pulled out, leaving his cum to drip out of her cunt and onto the sheets.

"We can buy new sheets, right?" he asked.

"We'll let Dinkle keep these. For all the trouble."

"Magnificent bitch."

"We're not through here," she said, grabbing a fistful of his shaggy hair and pulling him down to kiss him. "I want more."

She pushed him back and knelt between his legs. She took his half-hard cock in her mouth and nearly sucked his spleen though it like a straw. She grabbed his balls and gave them a squeeze.

"You ready?"

"You frighten me, Annie." He pulled her to him and they kissed and licked each other until she couldn't stand it any more.

"Let's do it," she said wickedly.

"I thought we were doing it," he said.

"No, dummy. Let's do IT." She looked behind her and then to him. His eyes widened.

"Are you serious?"

"Uh-huh. I...ah, cleaned up back there earlier. No sense in being nasty about it." She leaned over and kissed him sharply before jumping up and laying down on her belly. She spread her legs just a bit and slapped a foot on the pillow.

"You're sure?" He was all for the loud, rough sex in which they had been engaged, but he didn't want her doing something she really wasn't ready for.

"Calvin, stick it in my ass, now."

If he wasn't hard before he heard those words, he was like a rock after. He got over her and sat back a bit on her legs. He used his good hand to spread the lovely ass cheeks just a little. There it was. The last frontier. He dropped a large glob of saliva between her full cheeks and watched it slide down and land at the tiny hole.

"C'mon," she said with a wiggle. He pushed at her asshole and watched his rigid dick slide in just until the head disappeared. She gasped and grabbed hold of the sheets. He waited until she relaxed a little, moving just the head, in and out until the rest of him started to move. He dropped another glob onto his cock and pushed in until he was buried up to his pelvis.

It was a feeling unlike anything he normally had when fucking her. He didn't think it was better. There was a lot about it that just wasn't like being inside her wet cunt. But it was worth the wait.

He started to pull out and then back in. Slowly at first, but then building to a real fucking rhythm. She grunted and moaned, basically alleviating any concerns he had for her comfort. When her hands reached back to pull her ass apart, he let go and really started to fuck her. If Dinkle was in anywhere in the city he was going to hear them that night.

Anne let go of her ass and slid her hands under her body, rubbing in fast circles over her clit. When she finally came, he felt the walls of her ass clamp around his shaft tighter than he'd ever felt in her pussy. He managed two strokes as she screamed before he shot a burning load of cum in her ass.

They spent five minutes catching their breath and just laying there with his still firm cock in her ass. By the time it softened enough to pull out, they were laughing and kissing like teenagers. She rolled off the mattress and led him to the bathroom. They stayed in the tub until the water turned cold.

"Let's sleep in the living room tonight," she suggested as she dried him off. He looked at the messy, rumpled sheets and agreed. They walked past the mattress and walked naked in the moonlight to the living room.

"Planned ahead, did we?" he asked. He saw the fresh sheets on the couch and the two pillows.

"Hoped, I guess. I wasn't sure if you'd be up for it after this afternoon."

"Have I said I love you?"

"You've mentioned it."

"So, where do you want to go," he asked as they laid down on the sheets. They didn't cover themselves in the warm summer night.

"I was thinking maybe we just get out of the city. Not too far. But just a little. We could maybe look for a house?"

"I think we could try that. Hell, between our jobs, we could get a nice little place and own it outright in just a few years. Davison is retiring next month, and I think I'm taking over."

"That'd be a lot more money, right?"

"Enough. More later, if I do well."

"You will."

"So, what kind of house do you want?"

"Something with a fence. Nothing crazy, just a small white fence. I could put flowers along the edge."

"I think I'll build a deck."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Big one. We can 'entertain' out there."

"Ooooh, I think you should. We'll be the envy of the neighbors." She snuggled in closer to him.

"I love you Calvin."

"I love you too." They lay there and listened to the sounds on the street. She was stroking his arm and he had his good hand over one of her big breasts. She was starting to drift off when he spoke.

"Man, I love holding your boobs." They laughed until tears streamed down their faces and then, looking forward to starting a new part of their life, they slept.

END

*

*

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed this third part. There are four total. As with all of my stories, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read them, and would encourage you to vote if you liked it, and any feedback is greatly welcomed. Thanks.

Bob Clark Jr.

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3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 15 years ago
You don't punch women.

You don't hit women unless they are literally trying to kill you. Yes she called the woman he loved a whore and wouldn't leave him alone I get it. A rude insult and a rude bump as he walks pas maybe spilling her drink on her would have sufficed. You just had to ruin the story with him hitting a woman. I quit reading there since it disgusted me.

rmikesmirmikesmiabout 20 years ago
Great Job

Please continue with the story. You left it just rightto make readers want more.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 20 years ago
Make me smile

Make me scream, monkey-boy.......... :-)

Funny real funny.

Thanks

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Just Them Ch. 02 Previous Part
Just Them Series Info

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